


i just came to say hello

by manusinistra



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manusinistra/pseuds/manusinistra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffeeshop AU, wherein Paige doesn't drink coffee and Emily gets her to anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. paige

Paige doesn’t drink coffee.

When she lived at home, her parents held her to an austere diet: no coffee, no candy, no refined sugar; bread with less than 5 grains strictly verboten. It seems rough in retrospect, but it’s hard to be too unhappy with something that led to a swimming scholarship. Besides, now that she’s in college she can sully the temple of her body in any way she pleases. Her favorites are these: extra-cheese pizza, chocolate chip pancakes, and the most incredible coffeecake muffins from this café a block from the pool.

Coffee, though, is where she draws the line. Her body hasn’t had years to build up caffeine resistance, so even a small cup raises her spaz quotient to dangerous levels. The last time she tried it she literally vibrated out of her chair.

So, yeah. She doesn’t drink coffee.

This wouldn’t be an issue, except that the (absurdly gorgeous) barista at the café always smirks at Paige when she asks for water to wash down her muffin. She lets it go the first few times, but there comes a day when the place is empty and she’s just kicked ass at practice and so when the smirk happens Paige rests her elbows on the counter, settling in for a conversation.

“Something funny?” 

“Not at all.”

“See, you say that, but I don’t believe you.”

The smirk stretches into a full-blown smile.

“I just think it’s interesting that this is a coffee house, and one of our best customers doesn’t even drink the coffee.”

Paige leans forward, eyes darting to the barista’s nametag.

“I’m your best customer, Emily?”

“One of them.”

“There’s competition? I’ll have to work harder.”

“You know what you could do?” Emily leans in as well, close enough Paige can smell her perfume. “Try our coffee. Voted best in the city three years running.”

She’s all professionalism by the time she finishes talking, back in her usual stance, hand reaching for a cup.

Paige exhales through a laugh, shaking her head. She would’ve fallen forward were it not for the counter.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Even if I make it?”

The smirk is back, and Emily’s voice dips lower – Paige has no hope of resisting that combination.

“Ok, fine. Make me something and I’ll drink it.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Surprise me.”

;;

It tastes good, the thing Emily sets in front of her. She’s spread out on a couch with her econ reading, and it’s so boring that she’s grateful for the distraction of sipping a drink.

She’s grateful, that is, until she gets to the bottom of the cup and suddenly her leg can’t be kept from bouncing. Her fingers start tapping, her foot jiggling; it goes on like that until her body’s performing a whole symphony of twitches.

She looks at Emily, who seems far too pleased with herself.

“What did you give me?”

“My boss calls it a dirty bastard. Three shots of espresso. Well, normally. I gave you an extra.”

Paige’s heart rate picks up. 

“You’re evil.”

Emily grins.

“I’m just here to sell coffee.”

Paige glances down at her reading – the words appear to be dancing.

“Ok, I need to go walk this off. If I have a heart attack and die it’s on you.”

Emily comes over as Paige is packing up. She pulls a pen from her pocket, writes something on a napkin.

“In case there’s no heart attack.”

She leans across Paige to tuck the napkin into her bag. Paige gets a glimpse – it looks like a phone number. As Emily straightens Paige catches her arm.

“In case there is.”

Paige leans up to press their lips together. Emily’s taken off guard but she kisses back, and when Paige pulls away she’s left leaning into air.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Paige says on her way out the door.

Now she’s wearing a smirk of her own.


	2. emily

Emily likes working the early shift.

It’d be hell somewhere catering to 9 to 5ers, but since the café is right by campus half their customers sleep until noon. In the mornings it’s quiet enough Emily can get homework done, and she likes being able to talk to the people who do come in. They’re an interesting bunch, the early risers: pre-meds stumbling to 8:30 classes, grad students with piles of papers to grade, athletes looking for a post-practice boost.

Emily has a particular fondness for that last category – for a certain person who falls into it.

Paige comes in pretty much every day, by eight unless her practice runs late. She’s on the swim team, which Emily knows because of the Sharks warm-up jacket she always has on.

She was wearing it the first day she came in. Her hair was slicked back, still wet from the pool, and she had that dazed expression typical of freshman the first week of school. There was no hesitation once she saw the baked goods rack, though: she marched up to Emily and asked for the best tasting, least healthy thing on the menu, holding eye contact a few seconds longer than straight girls do.

Emily has been smitten ever since. And it’s mutual, if yesterday is any indication.

Except – Emily’s phone was dead silent last night, and while she knows it’s stupid to worry she can’t help wondering if the kiss was some caffeine-induced slip. As arrogant as it sounds, she’s used to people using her number when she gives it to them, and the fact that Paige hasn’t is disconcerting.

Emily looks down at her watch. It’s 8:02.

The bell on the door jangles – Paige is there, and Emily’s relief at her presence gives way to other things when she sees what Paige is wearing. Emily likes the way she usually looks, cute and tomboyish in her workout clothes, but today there’s a V-neck and jeans that cling to her body and she’s all the way to the counter before Emily remembers it’s polite to look people in the eye.

She smiles, hoping it hides how flustered she feels.

“Want the same thing as last time?”

“Not the coffee.”

Paige’s grin is playful; there’s no regret to be seen.

Emily relaxes. She tilts her head, gives Paige an appraising look.

“The muffin, then.”

“I can settle for that.”

Paige hangs around the bar to eat, perching on one of the stools. When she’s done Emily turns toward her.

“I didn’t get a call yesterday.”

“See, I was going to call. But then I realized how much better conversations are in person.”

She catches Emily’s eye, and there’s a boldness to her gaze Emily feels all over. The heat of it shivers along her skin, intensity building until she has to look away.

“I see your point,” Emily says.

“And honestly?” Paige’s tone shifts into self-deprecation. “I was way too nervous to call you. I kept trying to have the conversation in my head and couldn’t get past ‘hello’.”

There’s a tint to Paige’s cheeks that might be a blush. It charms Emily, as does the admission.

A beeping comes from inside Paige’s bag. 

“I have to get to a meeting.” She takes a breath. “My friend is having a party tonight. It’s a swim team thing, though there’ll be other people there, too. I know it’s late notice, but would you want to go with me?”

She holds Emily’s gaze, doesn’t shy away from what she’s asking.

Emily can’t keep from grinning.

“Yeah,” she says. “That sounds like fun.”

;;

The party is at a house off-campus. They meet by the library and walk over together.

Once they’re there Paige finds reasons to touch Emily – a hand at her elbow tugging her toward the keg, an arm around her waist during introductions. When they win at beer pong Paige engulfs her in a hug, and with the shock of full body contact the want that’s been simmering in Emily rises to levels it’s hard to ignore.

“Take a walk with me,” she says into Paige’s ear.

They go outside, to the backyard, where darkness insulates them from the party.

Paige leans into Emily until there’s no space left, until she’s caught in a kiss so soft and sweet it seems unreal.  It’s lovely, the gentle brush of Paige’s lips, but it’s the kind of kiss you give someone you’re trying not to scare away. That’s not what Emily’s after: she wants to feel Paige in all her realness, hard lines and sharp edges and uncensored desire.

So she pushes Paige against a tree, presses into her with her entire body.

Paige’s expression changes, goes from  _is this really happening_  to  _so that’s what you like_ , and when her hand fists in Emily’s hair all Emily can think is  _yes_.

The next kiss is rougher. Paige’s shirt rides up; Emily’s fingers seek out her skin, tracing over the ridge of her hipbone. She gasps into Emily’s mouth, slides a hand down from Emily’s back and pulls at her until she’s gasping, too.

Things build to the point where if it goes further there’ll be no stopping: Emily has a leg pressed between Paige’s and she can feel it, how much Paige wants her. She’s no less worked up, so when Paige pushes at her shoulders it takes her a minute to realize that means stop.

She takes a step back, breath coming fast.

She takes in her handiwork: Paige’s hair is twice the size it was when they came outside, and there’s a spot on her neck that looks like it might bruise. Her skin is flushed everywhere it’s visible (and Emily wonders if it’s like that in the places that are covered, too) but it’s the naked hunger in Paige’s eyes that most makes her want to step in and start things again. 

Paige holds her off with a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she says. “Because God, I do. But not here. You deserve a real date, not some random house party.”

It’s sweet, that sentiment. It’s also not necessary, not when Emily’s drunk off Paige’s lips and hands and the way her touch makes Paige’s breath go rough, but then this isn’t just about her. Paige is younger and the year between them is an important one.

Besides, now that Emily’s cooling down, there’s more and more sense in not letting things happen here.  So she smiles, blowing out a long breath.

“How’s Friday?” 

“It seems kind of far away,” Paige says.

"You know what’ll make it go faster?"

"What’s that?"

"Actually using my phone number."


End file.
